_Foole!_ Dost thou hope, thine _Honours_, or thy _Gold_, Shall gaine thee _Love_? Or, that thou hast her heart Whose hand upon thy tempting _Bayt_ layes hold? Alas! fond _Lover_, thou deceived art. She that with _Wealth_, and _Titles_, can be wonne, Or woo’d with _Vanities_, will wavring bee; And, when her Love, thou most dependest on, A _Fiddle-sticke_ shall winne her heart from thee. To _Youth_ and _Musicke_, _Venus_ leaneth most; And (though her hand she on the _Scepter_ lay) Let _Greatnesse_, of her Favours never boast: For, _Heart_ and _Eye_, are bent another way. And lo, no glorious Purchace that Man gets, Who hath with such poore _Trifles_, woo’d, and wonne: Her footing, on a _Ball_, his _Mistresse_ sets, Which in a moment slips, and she is gone. A _Woman_, meerely with an _Out side_ caught, Or tempted with a _Galliard_, or a _Song_, Will him forsake (whom she most lovely thought) For _Players_ and for _Tumblers_, ere’t be long. You, then, that wish your _Love_ should ever last, (And would enjoy _Affection_ without changing) _Love_ where your _Loves_ may worthily be plac’t; And, keepe your owne _Affection_, still from ranging. Vse noble _Meanes_, your Longings to attaine; Seeke equall _Mindes_, and well beseeming _Yeares_: They are (at best) vaine _Fooles_, whom _Follie_ gaine; But, there is _Blisse_, where, _Vertue_ most endeares: And, wheresoe’re, Affection _shee_ procures, In spight of all _Temptations_, it endures. _This Ragge of =Death=, which thou shalt see, Consider it; And =Pious= bee._ [Illustration: IN HVNC INTVENS PIVS ESTO ILLVSTR. VIII. _Book 1._]